Use Somebody
by LaVioleBlanche
Summary: He'd waited for three years. Was it finally over? Had he really given up?
1. Very SuperWikus

Well, here it is: first chapter of my second fic. In case you read my first one: this is NOT a sequel. This story takes place after the movie. Sorry if the first few chapters are a little clunky. As always, tell me what you think! I love to hear from you, no matter what you have to say! (although, I'd prefer you didn't send me, like… death threats or anything like that. Y'know. Telling me you're gonna burn my house down or something is probably not the best motivator for updates.) *cough cough* anyway! Please do review and let me know!

Warning: This is gonna be slash, in case you hadn't guessed!

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own District 9. The film would've ended a liiittle bit differently if I did. Basically it would've turned into xeno porn. The scene with Koobus getting ripped apart would still be there, though!! ^.^

Onward, into the abyss!

Today was the day.

Wikus crouched among the refuse, flies clinging to his hard exoskeleton, and looked up at the sky.

Today.

The other prawns milled about District 10, unaware of the importance of the date, what it would mean to them if they only understood.

Today was the day that Christopher was coming back.

It had been three years exactly, today. He had to come back today. He would. Wikus knew he would keep his promise. He would wait here, outside his small, squalid tent, until the dark form of the mothership broke the clouds and came to take them. To save him. Not cure him; he wasn't so sure he really wanted the cure anymore. The thought of being human again was only depressing to him now.

A guard wandered by, one of MNU's toy soldiers, and shot Wikus a dirty look but didn't strike him. There were too many prawns in District 10 for the humans to safely persecute them as they once did. When they were in the mood for blood, the guards had to get a truck and at least a dozen armed men to ensure they wouldn't be torn apart by a mob of angry prawns defending the intended victim.

Wikus barely noticed the human, eyes glued to the ceiling of clouds above.

Today.

He settled himself onto the ground and waited.

/*/*/*/

The day passed slowly.

Then another day without a sign.

Then a week.

By the end of the month, Wikus had stopped eating. He stayed inside his tent, trying to block the outside world from his life. Trying not to think the thoughts his treacherous mind supplied.

_So he got out of here as fast as he could and didn't look back. He just left his people here to rot, and me along with them_. He argued hopelessly against himself.

_No, it's not true. He didn't. He wouldn't just abandon them. Abandon __**me**__. It's not…_

He huddled in the corner and sank into depression.

/*/*/*/

_Pain pain pain there was so much pain, his world was a screaming tunnel of agony as they cut him open, poked and prodded their sharp tools into his flesh and tore him apart from the inside out, their faces distorted by surgical masks. He searched their eyes desperately, looking for some glint of sympathy or pity and finding none. He tried to twist his way free of the bonds, but the steel cuffs held him to the table, immobile as a mountain and _why_ why wouldn't they listen to his cries, why would none of them even look at him as they sliced his skin away, peeled him raw and trembling and bloody. He tried again to choke out words, to beg them to let him go, to explain that he had not come to invade or to harm anyone, he only wanted to find Wikus, he only wanted to help, but they ignored him and stabbed deeper into his ruined body. Soon his mind was so consumed by the fire of excruciating hurt that he fell into blissful darkness. His last thought was one of panic and worry: he had to find Wikus, he had to help, he'd promised and he had to tell him, had to ask him -- _

Short chapter is short; sorry. More soon!


	2. Jeepers Poleepkwers

Goddamn, I am speedy. Here it is, Chapter 2! Reviews are like cats: you can never _really _have too many, no matter what the nosy bobbymen say!

A deep, bone-rattling hum filled the air. At first most of the Poleepkwa in the camp ducked into their homes, assuming that a human plane or copter had arrived and that it was time to hide. As the sky darkened, though, and the humans began to nervously call out to one another on their radios, it became apparent that this was not planned. One by one the prawns peered out and scrutinized the sky hopefully. A shape blotted out the sun as the hum resonated. A few guards tried to urge the gathering aliens back into their tents, and were ignored. When they began to threaten the prawns and call for reinforcements, the onlooking extraterrestrial crowd turned on them, tearing limbs from the humans' soft, unprotected forms and wrenching organs from their easily-opened bellies.

The ship filled the sky as it descended and came to a halt, hovering over the camp. One of the human cannons fired its missiles in a panic, only to be destroyed by a single casual blast. With a sound like the sigh of some colossal beast, a huge ramp reached out and contacted the ground. There was a collective intake of tense breath. Then it was as if a floodgate had opened. A wave of armed Poleepkwa soldiers emerged from the vessel and headed for the camp as the Earthbound prawns poured simultaneously through the gates toward them. The remaining humans were unarmed, corralled into a few tents and threatened into submission. Poleepkwa warriors flowed through the streets with precision and determination, gathering the creatures that were too ill or old or cat food euphoric to make their way to the ship and carrying them out.

Wikus stirred sluggishly at the commotion, crawling dazedly from his stupor and peeking outside. For a moment he thought he must be hallucinating. A healthy, armed prawn paused, crouched, and offered assistance. Wikus stared up wonderingly.

"Christopher? Christopher Johnson, is he with you?" He croaked hopefully.

The soldier cocked its head. "I don't know. Do you need help, brother?"

Wikus waved the prawn on and pulled himself to his feet. He staggered towards the ship, his pace quickening. _He did come for me. He didn't lie. Have to find him._ He grabbed another soldier, a tall, muscular, blue-black creature, by the arm and asked again where Christopher was. The soldier blinked and shook his head.

"Christopher Johnson? He is not with us. He came here _ahead_ of us."

"What?!" Wikus froze and the larger prawn started to walk on. Wikus grabbed him again. "Wait, what? Say again – Christopher Johnson came back before you lot got here?"

The soldier clicked his mandibles in affirmation. "He requested a small ship and left only a day after he arrived home. Something about a promise to someone on this planet."

"But he… he didn't…" Wikus trailed off in confusion.

"The Queen didn't want to let him go before she arranged a guard to accompany him, but he was very insistent on leaving as soon as possible. He made certain his son was safe at home, then left." The tall Poleepkwa glanced at the former human. "Why do you ask? Do you know him?"

"I'm…" Wikus wasn't sure what to say. "W-who did he come back for?" He had to be sure.

The soldier twitched his antennae casually. "A human. I don't know its name. Christopher was adamant that that human be protected, and he said that it needed some sort of medical aide, so he went to find it."

"But I—" Wikus hesitated, not wanting to let the prawn know that he was really human. "But… I mean… did he find the… the human?"

The Poleepkwa looked at him quizzically, as if surprised by how many questions he had. "We don't know. We lost all communications with him when he arrived – almost two months ago. Once this prison has been cleared, a group of us have been assigned to locate him and offer help, or to bring his remains home if, as we suspect, he has been captured by the agency he warned us of."

_Oh fuck_. The thought of that room, that cold laboratory filled with blades and corpses, snuck into Wikus' mind and made him shiver. He imagined Christopher, peaceful Christopher, chained and dragged onto one of those vivisection tables, bleeding, screaming – _Captured. Oh fuck_.

"Y-you're going now?" The smaller Poleepkwa asked suddenly, catching the soldier's attention once more.

"What?"

"You're going to find Christopher now, you're gonna go look for him?"

"Uh-" the warrior wasn't sure what to make of this persistent Earthbound Poleepkwa. "Well, not just yet; first we must go to the building that he told us of, to free those that have been enslaved for the humans' _tests_." A look of disgust and loathing crossed his face.

Wikus knew, somehow, in his gut, that Christopher was there. Whether he was alive or not…

He squared his broad shoulders and looked the soldier in the eye. "I want to help," he decided. "I've been in that building before; I can show you where they're being kept. I want to help you find Christopher."


	3. Race for the Prawn

Yo yo yo-giddy-yo, everybody! How's life?? Here is another update! Happy random holiday! (This chapter was inspired almost entirely by three things: the song Show Me What I'm Looking For, by Carolina Liar, which may or may not become a chapter title for this fic (props to Smasher for the writing playlist), the book The Red Tree, by Caitlin R. Kiernan (who I love with a love that is unrivaled and, sadly, unrequited) and the song Skeletons by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs (I luuurrrve them). Yay for my random self-centered rambling! Sorry. Anyways…

PS: Thanks a _lot_ Zombie Smasher, now I have to relocate my secret base again! .

Murder Junkie: I love your random advice! It is like chocolate ice cream with plot bunnies in it! Here, have a face-hugger/prawn hybrid baby!! And I, too, enjoy the dissection! Gore is fun to write.

Crazzi Turdi: I could totally see Wikus getting completely hammered and calling Christopher Chrissy. Chris would be torn between being annoyed by the nickname and really, really amused by drunk Wikus.

Lorescien: Hooray, emotions are fun to toy with! Get ready for some more turmoil!

Rogi16: 0.0 Cyber muffins…. Whoa. Delicious and nutritious! They fill my writing fuel tank!

Long openings are… um… long. And stuff.

In the three years since Christopher Johnson's departure and Wikus van der Merwe's "disappearance", MNU had poured more money into their laboratory, expanding it and raising its funding in the hopes that one of their scientists would find a way to locate Wikus or convert prawn weaponry. Neither objective had been reached, but testing and research still continued with no signs of stopping. The building itself had doubled in size, so that the squad of Poleepkwa rescuers had to split into groups of four or five to search for survivors of the experiments. Wikus was invited to join a troop and given a gun. The soldier he'd spoken to earlier (whose name, no matter how many times he repeated it for Wikus, sounded like 'Brick-a-brack') led the way, following the newcomer Poleepkwa's directions.

Their squad was sent to the lowest level, the holding cells and vivisection labs. As they reached the bottom steps, the group simultaneously gagged, one prawn even dry-heaving for a minute at the powerful smell of disease, fear and death that hung palpably in the air. Wikus felt his stomach clench involuntarily. The thought of Christopher in here, bound and helpless in one of the tiny cells, or, god forbid, pinned to a table, a scalpel poised over his chest, made Wikus squeeze his eyes shut as his hands clenched his weapon.

"Come on," Brick-a-brack clicked bracingly, urging the soldiers forward. "Let's get our brothers out of here."

The other Poleepkwa pressed on reluctantly, fighting with growing apprehension the images of what they knew they were about to see. Brick-a-brack paused and glanced sideways at the volunteer, who was still frozen in apparent horror.

"Are you alright? You can stand guard at the top of the stairs if you would prefer," he offered.

Wikus shivered like a cat, dislodging the fear that gripped him. "No," he said firmly. "I have to… I have to help." The prawn who had been human started forward boldly, heading for the farthest cells, his gun raised in case of guards or scientists. Brick-a-brack nodded respectfully, admiring the smaller Poleepkwa's courage, then joined his fellows in prying open the door of one of the rooms.

Wikus reached the end of the hall and kicked in a door. With some anxiety, he stuck his head in and was met with a white, sterile, mercifully empty operating room. He swiftly shut the entrance, scratched an "X" into it with his arm spines, and moved on to the next chamber. A cell this time, with a small, unfamiliar dead prawn rotting in one corner. Unsure whether to leave it there or drag it out, he propped the door open and kicked in the next one. Another lab, this one occupied by a group of cowering scientists who began to shriek and babble the instant he stepped inside. Another prawn lay on the table, its organs spread out across its opened chest like some sick display of red and black ribbons. The slits in its throat moved feebly as it turned agonized green eyes to stare imploringly at Wikus. He held out a hand as if to comfort the doomed creature, keeping his gun pointed toward the humans with the other. The Poleepkwa stirred slightly, its antennae trembling, and then it lay still and silent. Wikus stared at the murdered being for a moment, reassuring himself that it definitely wasn't Christopher, before turning to look at the doctors. One let out a low, terrified moan, an almost bestial noise, as he leveled his weapon at them. Another started to pray. A third begged.

"Please, please, we were just doing our jobs, we didn't-" he never got the chance to finish. Wikus snarled and fired once, twice, watching with grim satisfaction as the humans were reduced to red, pulpy splatters. He passes a hand over the dead prawn's eyes, shutting them respectfully before moving on.

There was a brief jabber of human gunfire down the hall—the soldiers had found an MNU guard—that was silenced by an answering blast. Wikus glanced toward the others; Brick-a-brack was carrying a gravid Poleepkwa to the stretchers they'd set up in the space between the stair and the corridor. One of the other soldiers cradled a child, its legs turned into bleeding stumps by a surgeon's saw. Eyes tight, Wikus felt a familiar wave of revulsion at himself: he'd been one of these butchers, smiling and laughing and killing. Shuddering, he turned and faced another entrance. Steeling himself, he shot the lock off and pushed it open.

The prawn that curled against the far wall in a pool of its own blood was scrawny and broken, and lacked the red vest he'd had worn when Wikus had seen him last, but there was no doubt in the ex-human's mind that it was Christopher.


	4. Days Prawn Gone By

Sunuvabitch, I am Speedy McSpeedington. Here it is, hot off the press! Arkangel: No, I don't know you, of course not! Meh, at least you don't threaten to burn my house down. Or stalk me. Y'know.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck." Wikus dropped his gun and crouched at the motionless prawn's side. "Christopher?" He reached out his hand – the hand that had lost and re-grown a thumb – and gently rolled Christopher onto his back. The Poleepkwa's eyes were closed, his face cracked and swollen with bruises and cuts. He'd obviously been starved, and beaten many times judging by the mangled condition of his body. Welts and jagged fractures dotted his limbs. One antenna had been snapped off and another appeared to have been skinned, leaving only a tangle of raw, bloody nerves dangling from the prawn's head. Worst of all, his abdomen had been sliced open, a long line running from his neck to his narrow pelvis, and messily patched back together with surgical staples. Several had fallen out, and more had become infected, grey pus oozing from the areas around them.

"Oh, no. Chris? Chris, wake up. Can you hear me?" Wikus shook him gingerly, his voice breaking. Christopher's eyes did not open. Wikus started to touch the damaged face, his hands hovering above it, afraid to touch but needing to. "Please, c'mon. Wake up. Come on."

Brick-a-brack entered the room, looking for Wikus. He stopped short when he saw the smaller Poleepkwa carefully cradling the ruin of a body in his hands. Wikus looked up at him tearfully.

"He's – he's not dead. He's not. I-I can see him breathing."

The soldier nodded and called out to one of the others in the hall to bring a stretcher. Turning back to the distraught creature on the floor, he smiled as reassuringly as he could.

"Don't worry, human. We will get him to the ship and the doctors will take care of him."

The words took a moment to register in Wikus' mind, focused as he was on Christopher's plight. He looked up sharply. "How'd you-"

"Know that you are the human Christopher came back for? No offense, brother, but you didn't do much of a job of hiding it." Brick-a-brack added calmly, "Don't be afraid. None of us intends to do you any harm; it's obvious that Christopher wanted you kept safe, and you don't exactly seem to share your species' rabid hatred of us—far from it. Now, let's get him seen to." He nodded at the stretcher carriers and they lowered it, preparing to hoist their battered comrade on. Wikus was reluctant to release his hold on Christopher's limp form, but the blue-black soldier assured him that he could stay at his friend's side. Wikus relented and followed the stretcher closely, wringing his hands. As they exited the evil building, he turned to Brick-a-brack, who carried the amputee child.

"He… he's gonna be okay, right? Christopher's gonna – your doctors can just zap him with some sort of heal-ray, yeah? Just fix everything in a blink. Right?"

The warrior glanced away uneasily.

"Well… they should be able to heal his physical injuries without much problem. Of course, we don't know what they… did to him, internally. And then, there may be deeper wounds than we can see."

"Deeper, what do you mean, _deeper_?" Wikus asked anxiously.

Brick-a-brack sighed as they approached the ship, ignoring the crowds of both cheering and enraged humans that lined the streets. He looked at the barely-recognizable creature on the mobile pallet. "I've seen situations like this – none this serious, but some nearly so – where the victim has been so badly abused that their minds become affected more than their bodies. You understand?"

Wikus nodded, a horrible hollow feeling taking hold of him as he stared at Christopher. Brick-a-brack tried to console him.

"Christopher is strong," he said encouragingly, "If anyone can hold out against such torture, it's him."

Wikus looked up hopefully. "So – so he might just be, like, a little messed up for a while? Like, maybe he'll need… counseling or something for a while?"

The soldier shifted the child in his arms and looked straight ahead blankly. "Yes. Counseling."

/*/*/*/

They laid Christopher's bloody form out on a low, flat table in a room with blue-green walls that constantly shifted in soothing patterns. A large diagnostic machine hovered overhead, pulsing with faint amber light like a miniature sun. Several cushions had been placed along one wall for loved ones to sit and observe the doctors' process. All in all, it was quite unlike the medical 'probing rooms' described by supposed alien abductees, Wikus thought with wry humor. He was offered a seat and refused, preferring to stand in a corner as the four doctors lowered the machine over Christopher. It hummed and produced a screenful of prawn symbols that they clicked and chattered quietly over.

"Well?" Wikus asked when he couldn't stand it any longer. "Is he gonna be okay?"

One of the MDs, a smallish red Poleepkwa that walked with a limp, turned to address him.

"You are his… sibling? His mate?"

"I'm – I'm his friend. I'm just…" Wikus felt uneasy telling the prawn much – his last experience with doctors had left him somewhat leery of them.

One of the others whispered to the red male, who nodded suddenly. "Ah, you're his human, yes? I suppose that makes you qualified to-"

"Not if Christopher didn't _ask_ him yet, which I doubt he did," a third argued.

Wikus was totally lost, and quickly becoming frustrated. "Look, I'm not 'his' human, I'm just – I'm his friend, like I said, now will you please fucking tell me what's going on? And what was Chris supposed to ask me?"

The doctors exchanged glances. The argumentative one started to warn the small one, "Gregory, he doesn't qual—"

"Shut up," the limping Poleepkwa clicked irritably. "He's close enough; we all know Christopher had planned to ask him anyway."

"And what makes you think the human would have said 'yes'? He's a human; he wouldn't have any interest in-"

"Would one of you just tell me what the fuck is wrong with him?!" Wikus exploded, slamming a fist against one of the lovely blue walls, causing the patterns to swirl and warp wildly.

The red prawn stepped forward. "Christopher's body, as you can tell, has been badly damaged. The worst of it was focused to his antennae and thorax; the human 'doctors' attempted to transplant a pair of human lungs into him in conjunction with his own. We can remove the lungs and heal the damage; it'll take about a day. However, there's a bigger problem."

"What? What?" Wikus' mind raced, panic building in him. "What is it?"

The doctor – Gregory – took a deep breath. "When a Poleepkwa has been harmed too greatly for their mind to process, they sometimes go into a state of permanent unconsciousness, keeping only vital body functions going. It is the last manner of escape we have, a sort of fail-safe. Do you understand?" He regarded Wikus with sharp orange eyes.

"I-I don't- he's… he's in a coma? Is that- that's what you're saying, he's in a coma?" Wikus choked.

"That's what your people call it? Ko-mah? Yes. He is in a _coma_, preserving his sanity by blocking out the worst of the pain." The doctor nodded.

Wikus sat heavily on one of the cushions. "Ca-can't you do… something? I mean, there's gotta be some- some _cure_ right? You're an advanced fucking alien race, you should be able to get somebody out of a fucking coma!"

"We have one method of bringing victims back from this state," Gregory said, gesturing to another machine in the ceiling. "We have a way to shock the patient awake for a moment. Unfortunately, the instant they wake up, all the pain hits them at once, no matter how many painkillers they are given. Most can only bear it a few seconds before they once again lose consciousness. The only way we've found to keep them awake is to have someone get their attention and keep them alert for a full thirty seconds, talk to them and hold their focus long enough to ensure that they will not fall back. Usually it is the victim's mate or offspring that does this. As we apparently have neither, we must ask you to speak to him when we wake him."

"What?" Wikus blinked nervously. "Why me?"

"You are important to him." The doctor snapped. "Isn't it obvious? He left his son, returned to this planet, faced torture and nearly _death_ to bring you your cure. I'd say that deserves at least some small effort on your part."

"Yeah." Wikus stared mournfully at Christopher. "Yeah, of course, I'll try. When are you gonna do it?"

"Now. We don't have time to wait."


	5. Down With the Wikus

Greetings and salutations, my reading readers! Here comes another update! (yay) Easter shrimp for all who caught my little reference to a REALLY GOOD TV SHOW. But none for you, Zombie Smasher. C'mon, man, I put him in there for your benefit and you didn't catch it! *shun* Ok, not really, you can also have Easter shrimp. Cause I'm so nice. Get you umbella-ella-ellas out, folks! Here comes a downpour of depressing goop! (Why is it in goop form? The world may never know) Sorry it's so fooking short, the next one will be longer.

"Fuck." Wikus drew several deep breaths. "Fuck. Okay. Okay, let's do it. What, uh, what do I say?"

"Anything," one of the other Poleepkwa said as they positioned the equipment. "Just try to get his attention. Give him a reason to stay awake. Try to be soothing – he will be in more pain than you can imagine."

"I can imagine an awful fucking lot of pain," muttered the former human.

The team of prawns arranged the machine so that it hung above Christopher's head, a single electrical spike extending to just over what was left of his antennae.

The rust-colored prawn looked at Wikus. "Ready?"

_No, I'm not fucking ready!_ He nodded anyway, eyes locked on his friend's face.

There was a sound like a taser hitting a chainsaw; the spike flashed red hot as it touched the comatose Poleepkwa's forehead. Christopher's beautiful tawny eyes flicked open.

And then he started screaming.

"Quickly, human!" A doctor shouted. "Speak to him; keep him from losing consciousness!"

Wikus stepped into Christopher's line of sight and spoke hurriedly. "Christopher! Chris, look, it's me, it's Wikus! C'mon, stay awake! Stay awake!"

The tortured Poleepkwa thrashed wildly, unaware of his surroundings, his only focus on the mind-splitting agony that coursed through every nerve and capillary. Wikus caught hold of his friend's shoulders, forced their gazes to meet.

"Chris! Just try to stay with us! Everything's gonna be okay, just… just stay conscious…"

Christopher's eyes rolled over the concerned ex-human's face, wheezing and gasping through his superfluous lungs. "Wikus?" he choked. "Wikus? S-so sorry. So sorry, Wikus, please, I- I tried to find... Hurts so much." His clicks were disjointed, broken sounds like shattered glass hitting a warped wooden floor.

Wikus cringed in sympathy and gripped Christopher's thin arms. "I know. I know it's bad, Chris, but just keep awake and fight through it, okay? You're going home; you're gonna be alright."

Christopher shuddered and lifted a crushed hand, his secondary arms unfolding like they had at the sight of the dissected prawn's corpse three years ago, reaching for Wikus. "Sorry… c-can't… trying—meant to tell you… I-I wanted to… sorry…please…"

One of the doctors shouted something but Wikus couldn't hear what he said. He stared into his friend's tormented eyes as they dimmed. With a final effort, Christopher murmured, "Missed you. Sorry," and clutched Wikus' hand weakly. Then his eyes closed again. Wikus made a piteous noise, an alien sob.

"No, no, no, NO! You stay the fuck awake, you fucking hear me?! FUCK! Fucking prawn, don't you fucking give up! _No!_" He screamed and ranted, but Christopher made no response. He'd fallen back into the empty space inside himself, lost to the world, his throat just barely moving with shallow breaths.


	6. Punk Rock Prawncess

Hi, guys. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I may have mentioned a while ago that one of my cats was sick, and we recently had to have her put down. She had breast cancer for about a year, and it finally got to be so bad that she couldn't eat or breathe. So I haven't exactly been in the mood to sit down and write, especially since this chapter gets kind of silly. Anyway, hopefully I'll be feeling a little better soon, and I'll continue to update and be less depressed.

Wikus continued to rail and scream at the prone form on the table until one of the doctors – he wasn't even sure which one it was – touched his elbow and said quietly, "He's gone back under. I'm sorry. You tried. Sometimes it just doesn't—"

"Do it again," Wikus interrupted, jabbing a finger at the machine. "Zap him again, let me try one more time."

The doctor—it was the one that hadn't spoken much – shook his head sadly. "It won't do any good, human. To attempt a re-wake now would only be cruel. If it doesn't work the first attempt, it's not going to work."

"Not necessarily," the limping doctor spoke up. "If he were given some time, a few hours at most, to pull away from the pain, it could be tried a second time."

"That has never been proven to work," snapped the irascible one. "It could easily damage him as much as help him; it could send him too deep-"

"It's worth a try. Do you want to be the one to inform the Next-Queen that Christopher Johnson was lost and we didn't try more than once to save him?" The quiet Poleepkwa countered, taking Gregory's side. The argumentative physician looked less sure of himself.

"You… have a point. Fine. You try whatever you want; just don't try to blame me when it backfires."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," growled Gregory before turning back to Wikus. "We will wait two hours; that is the most time we can give his body to recover before his mind sinks too deep. I suggest you get some rest."

"No, I-I can't possibly rest right now." Wikus kneaded his brow and looked down at Christopher with concern and fear.

"In that case you ought to prepare yourself for what you will say to him, since obviously your first attempt didn't work." The doctor blinked thoughtfully. "I think you should pay a visit to the Next-Queen."

"Huh? The what?" Wikus glanced up listlessly.

"The Next-Queen. The daughter of the Queen, who will take over when her mother passes on."

"Oh. So, like, the… princess?"

Gregory twitched his antennae. "I am unfamiliar with your terminology, but probably. She and Christopher… they are old friends, like siblings. She may be able to help you." He pointed to the door. "Burreekibakk will show you to her quarters."

"Uh? Oh. Right. Brick-a-brack." Wikus trotted to the exit and spoke to the soldier, who was waiting patiently in the hall. The larger prawn led him up several levels and down a long corridor, offering quiet condolences before knocking on a tall, wide portal in the corridor's hull. After a moment, the door opened a sliver and Brick-a-brack spoke to the creature behind it, saluting with his antennae and secondary limbs.

"My Next-Queen, this is the human brother that Christopher told us of. He wishes to speak-"

He was cut off by a resonant voice like a drumroll.

"Wikus van der Merwe. Yes, Christopher spoke of you a great deal to me. You hit him over the head with a piece of wood, right?"

Wikus groaned. "Oh, fuck. Yes, okay, yeah, I did, but it was just a-a misunder—"

There was a booming, rattling sound that MNU had always told their operatives was precursor to an attack but Wikus had learned was actually prawn laughter. "Relax, human. I'm only teasing you. Come in." The door swung open and a giant Poleepkwa stood in its frame. She was easily twice the height of the lanky Brick-a-brack, with spines running from her brow down her shoulders, arms, and back. Instead of secondary arms, a pair of mantis-like claws were tucked discreetly under her thorax. Her mouthparts were wider than most, reaching back on her face to form a permanent, skeletal grin. She was also pure, semitransparent white, a startling appearance set off by her vibrant blue eyes and the scarlet garment she wore around her hips and legs, which ended in black-taloned velociraptor feet.

Wikus gaped at her a moment until she beckoned him into the room. "C'mon. I'm not gonna eat you. Christopher would never forgive me." She winked, a disconcertingly human motion, and backed up to let him pass. "Are you coming in, too, Burreek?"

Brick-a-brack saluted again. "Much as I enjoy your company, Next-Queen, I have my duties. Your mother has ordered another search of the MNU building."

"Get along, then." The princess frowned, which was an alarming sight. "And for the thousandth time, call me by my _name_, not my title."

Without the slightest change in expression, the soldier clicked, "Whatever you wish, Next-Queen."

"Oh, go away already," the colossal white Poleepkwa barked, a tinge of humor in her tone as she closed the door and turned to her guest.

Wikus glanced around the room; it was as distinctive as its occupant, painted in red, black, and white spiky patterns that probably meant something. A large window in one wall illuminated the chamber with filtered African sunlight. A table and cushions of varying sizes sat at the center of the room, a plate of some kind of meat on the former.

The Next-Queen coughed politely by drumming her maxillae against each other. When Wikus looked up at her, she extended an arm gracefully, offering him a seat. Wikus was in the mood to strangle something, not sit and make conversation, but he figured it was best not to piss off the future ruler of his current race, so he sat. The female prawn seated herself across from him, blinking her sapphire eyes. She was quiet for a while before speaking.

"So. From what I hear you're having a rather stressful day."

"Day? Try a stressful _last three years_," Wikus clicked snarkily. Surprisingly, she laughed again.

"I can imagine. And now, all this business with poor Christopher," Wikus looked away miserably, but she continued in an upbeat manner, "Still, I think it's good that you're going to try again."

"About that." Wikus shifted uneasily. "Couldn't – couldn't _you_ try to get him to stay awake? I mean, the two of you are friends, right? You probably know him better than I do. So, why not just-?"

The Poleepkwa princess shook her head, looking at him questioningly. "Of all people, I think you're the most likely one to help him. Other than his son, maybe, but little Oliver's back on our planet."

"Why?!" Wikus shouted angrily. "People keep saying that I'm the one that ought to talk to him, but no one will fucking tell me why! They keep mentioning Chris asking me something, and, and talking about how I'm so fucking important to him and I don't know _why_!"

The white female looked shocked and angry, and for a second Wikus worried that he'd gone too far, but when she spoke it wasn't him she directed her anger at.

"You mean nobody _explained_ it to you?!" She ground her mantis-arms together in exasperation. "Those _morons_. Of course you'd be confused. Okay, Wikus," she lowered her head to look directly at him with her piercing stare. "I'm going to tell you a few things. Judging by what Christopher told me about you, you might not like some of what I have to say. Some of it may offend or even disgust you; I don't know. Not that he said anything negative about you; far from it. I don't think he has the _ability_ to say anything bad about you. He just pointed out that despite appearances, you are human, so he doubted you'd ever be, er, interested in our kind. Said you'd just want you cure and to see the Poleepkwa gone from your planet so you could get back to your wife. _I_ told him he was being a self-deprecating twat and that he should at least _try_, so he promised me that when he came back early he'd make you… an offer." She looked closely at the ex-human. "Do you see what I'm getting at, Wikus?"

"Uhh…" Wikus thought that maybe he did understand, but he pushed the thought away. "Not… not really." His antennae twitched.

"Okay. I'll be blunt." She fixed him with that icy stare again, pale mandibles tapping. "When he returned with your cure, Christopher had planned to ask you to come with him, whether you decided to become human again or stay a Poleepkwa. To be with him."

"You mean like…" Wikus began to grasp the concept despite himself.

She nodded her formidable head. "He would have asked you to be his mate, Wikus."


	7. Wikus ex Poleepkwa!

Hey, guys, sorry this one took so long again! Thank you so much for your reviews and kind words; they really and truly made me feel better. I'm back on track now, so the next chapter shouldn't take too long!

Wikus sat back in amazement and no small amount of confusion. "His- I- his _mate_? Chris wanted me to…?"

The Next-Queen nodded. "And you should count yourself as the luckiest being in this universe, human. Christopher is kind, intelligent, and hotter than the surface of this system's sun, even if he doesn't realize it," she said fiercely. "I'll admit to being jealous as hell of you. All that said, of course, it's still your choice. We have the means to revert you to your human form, either way. I considered blackmailing you into staying-" Wikus froze, but she rolled her eyes and continued, "-But Christopher wouldn't stand for it. It should be up to you, he said, and he told me- get this- that I wasn't allowed to threaten you! I said, I'm a fucking monarch, I can threaten people if I want to, but he wouldn't budge." She sighed. "So, there you have it." She glanced up at her guest. "Bit much for you to process?"

Wikus was staring distantly at a spot on the wall.

"So… he…" he looked back at her. "He… um, likes me?"

"What are you, twelve? How many times do I have to say it? _He wants you to be his mate!_ I'd say, yes, he 'likes' you!"

Wikus just looked blank and she sighed again. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you this now. Christopher could be right; maybe you're disgusted and now you never want to see him again, much less save his life, ey?" Her eyes glinted dangerously.

"No!" Wikus snapped defensively. "No, I'm not—I'm not disgusted, I just…" He turned away, absently rubbing his left arm. "I… I just need to go think for a bit. How much time have I got til-?"

The princess glanced at some prawn symbols on the wall that must have been a clock. "…Twenty of your minutes."

"Thanks. I'll just…" he got up and headed for the door, pausing to look back at her. "Thank you, Next-Queen. For, y'know, talking and all."

She held his gaze a moment, then grinned her eerie grin. "Call me Kaz. Next-Queen sounds so dumb. I'll see you later, Wikus."

He managed to nod and exit quietly and without tripping or running into anything, which was surprising to him considering how totally detached and unfocused he felt. He meandered down the long hallway back toward the hospital sector of the huge ship, questions and emotions bouncing around in his head.

_He was really gonna ask me to be his fucking mate? Is that like… a big deal with them, like getting married? Or is it more like a casual, roll-in-the-hay sort of thing? Probably the fist one judging by how everybody talked about it. Fuck, word gets around fast here, it seems. So Chris really… he really… _

He slowed and came to a halt.

_Does he… is he fucking in love with me? How could that even be possible? We only knew each other for, what, two, three-ish days? And most of the time I was yelling at him or we were running from MNU._

_Three-ish days of running and yelling was more than enough for you_, a voice in the back of his head reminded him. It was true; since Christopher had left, Wikus had been plagued by dreams and sudden, sharp longings. He'd assumed it was just his new prawn hormones playing havoc with his already-muddled brain. _But if that were true, wouldn't the dreams have been about pretty much any prawn? Or at least occasionally a different one?_ But no, every dream had featured Christopher and only Christopher, sometimes simply holding Wikus in his arms comfortingly, sometimes doing things with fingers and mouth that made the human wake up achingly and embarrassingly hard. Every urge and waking fantasy had been triggered by thoughts of the red-and-yellow clad Poleepkwa.

"Fuck." He picked up his pace again, as if he could walk away and leave his thoughts on the floor of the hallway.

/*/*/*/*/

Doctor Gregory was waiting outside the medical room when Wikus arrived. With a curt nod, the red prawn pushed the door open and ushered him inside.

"Ready to go again?"

Wikus nodded and stood over Christopher like he had last time. Unlike last time, however, the other doctors were absent. Only Gregory operated the machine, grunting in annoyance at his crippled leg as he pushed the equipment around. Wikus glanced up.

"Where are the others?"

"Kicked 'em out," the scarlet Poleepkwa fiddled with the electrical spike, locking it into position. "They aren't really necessary for this procedure, and you don't need them distracting you. If this attempt fails, that's it. He'll either crack or sink. So it's now or never, got it?"

Again, the taller prawn nodded, closing his eyes briefly.

"Okay. I'm ready."

That same taser-chainsaw buzz, and Christopher's body convulsed on the table, every limb gone rigid for an instant. He fell back as his eyes opened a second time and the pain ripped though him anew. His cries of agony were doubly cacophonous due to the implanted lungs, and Gregory winced and backed away.

Wikus, on the other hand, lunged forward and pinned Christopher's head between his powerful hands, shouting to be heard above the tortured screams.

"Christopher, it's me, Wikus! You have to listen to me! Look at me! Don't you dare go back under! You're fucking kid needs you, you hear me?!"

The bruised eyes locked on him. The screaming gave way to gasping, choking words. "Oliver?"

"That's right! Oliver needs you to stay awake, okay? I know it hurts; I know it hurts really fucking bad but you've gotta _fight_ it, Chris! You can't leave your kid alone!"

Christopher whimpered and a tremor rocked through him, but he remained focused on Wikus. "I'm sor-"

"Don't fuckin' say it! Don't say you're sorry; you've got nothing to be fucking sorry about! _They're_ gonna be sorry, hear me? I'm gonna fucking find those bastards that did this and fucking kill 'em! But right now I need you to stay with me, okay?! Just stay here with me, understand? I need you!" He shook the prawn roughly and Christopher gasped at the fresh shockwave of pain. He coughed and blood spattered Wikus' cheek, but his gaze stayed clear and attentive, didn't fade and dull like it had before.

"Wikus," he whispered hoarsely. "Wikus- are you… really here?"

For a second he didn't understand, but then it clicked in the ex-human's mind: how many times, after all, had he thought he'd seen Christopher over the three years of separation? How often had he imagined that the prawn had been standing watch over him when he'd felt the pain of his transformation; hoped that Chris would be lying next to him when he woke? It made sense that Christopher, in his nearly-delusional state of perpetual agony, had pictured Wikus at his side, something comforting to cling to. Wikus leaned in and stretched out his smaller arm's to take hold of Christopher's.

"Yes. I'm real."

Chris' bow furrowed as he struggled against the fog of pain. "No… not real. Not Wikus. Wikus is human. You're not Wikus…" His eyelids fluttered dangerously, his clicks once again becoming irregular and panicked.

"Chris, stay awake! It _is_ me! Look, I'm…" Unsure of how to prove who he was to the slipping Poleepkwa, he acted on instinct: he pushed their faces together and brushed Christopher's undamaged antennae with his own, filling the unstable prawn's senses with everything Wikus.

Christopher jerked in the embrace, his breathing ragged, then let out an involuntary, quavering sound. "Wikus, I…" his voice was brittle and raspy. "I can't h-hold- it hurts so much. Please- please, just let me – "

Wikus cut him off, whispering harshly into his friend's bloodied neck as he buried his face there.

"Don't. Don't you give up. You can't do it; I won't let you. You're fucking strong, you hear me, Chris? You're strong and you can hold out for just a few seconds more. You still have a promise to keep, remember? You have to ask me something. You were gonna ask me, and _I was gonna say yes_, okay? I would've said yes if you'd asked me three years ago. I'll still say yes. But you gotta stick around so you can ask me, alright?"

Christopher gave a shuddering sob, his movements stilling. Wikus pulled away enough to look him in the eye.

"Promise, okay? Promise me you'll stay here; that you won't leave me again."

Christopher's arms came up, shaking, to wrap loosely around the other male's shoulders. "I-I promise. Wikus…"

"Good," the hybrid said firmly, then tilted his head and tangled their mouths in each other, kissing and touching as Christopher rode out the final rending jolts of agony. Finally the battered form sighed quietly and relaxed in Wikus' arms, his breathing lengthening as he faded into sleep.

Dr. Gregory reappeared at Wikus' side and patted the younger Poleepkwa on the back.

"Well done. Sure took you long enough."

"He's okay now?" Wikus looked down at Christopher's worn, dozing face. "He's not gonna… drop out again?"

"He is stable now, yes. Absolutely exhausted, but stable. And now I have to call the other doctors so we can get his physical wounds tended to. You can take a seat if you like."

Wikus nodded, suddenly weak with relief. He sank gratefully into one of the cushions along the wall. It was as if all the furious energy he'd been filled with a moment ago had been drained from him, and within a few minutes he, too, had nodded off.


	8. Prawn Away With Me

This is my actual conversation with the voices in my head:

Me: Permission to continue being extremely sadistic towards Chris, sirs?

Plot Bunny Voices: GRANTED!!!

Chris: What?! I thought it was finally over… 

Wikus: Where's the fooking arc gun?! Must…shoot…bloody…author!

Me: Nooo! *hides but continues writing*

Chris: Damn, we lost her.

Wikus: Oh well, since we have nothing better to do, LET'S GET IT ON!!!

Chris: I concur!

Me: *grinning like a fül*

For reals, guys. That's how my brain operates.

PS, sorry for my none-too-subtle reference to another awesome movie that just came out. If you've seen the movie, you will know what I'm talking about in a moment. If not, whatevs.

Anyhow…

A large, roughened hand shook Wikus gently awake.

He blinked dazedly up at the familiar dark face of his soldier friend. Brick-a-brack was looming over him, a mildly amused gleam in his eye.

"You were calling out in your sleep. Something about cat food and 'the source'."

"Uh. Right. Sorry," Wikus grunted and sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he spoke. His antennae twitched back and forth, automatically scanning for the injured prawn. When he realized that Christopher wasn't in the room, he bolted to his feet, looking around in panic.

"Where's Chris? Did something happen? Why isn't he in here?"

Brick-a-brack stepped back, raising his arms defensively but chuckling at the smaller Poleepkwa's reaction.

"Don't worry, Wikus. He was moved to a recovery quarter a few hours ago. The doctors thought it best to let you sleep; you were both exhausted."

"Oh." Wikus calmed and looked up at the other prawn. "So he's still okay?"

"He is. The surgeons healed him and removed the," Brick-a-brack grimaced, "the _additions_. He has been sleeping soundly for almost eight hours; so have you. I came to wake you because he seems likely to come 'round soon."

Wikus froze, then ran to the door, shouting, "He's about to wake up?! Why didn't you just say that?!"

The soldier rolled his eyes. "Slipped my mind, I suppose. Would you like me to show you to where his room is?"

Wikus paused and glanced back sheepishly. "Yes, please."

/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Christopher's chamber was only a few halls down, so Wikus and his guide reached it in no time. Brick-a-brack halted outside the room and rattled his maxillae quietly. "Just so you know…" he began hesitantly, "He may not fully recall your conversation from earlier. The pain most likely prevented him from really focusing on his own actions, let alone those of people around him. So… you may want to remind him of what was said."

Wikus nodded. "Right. Makes sense, I guess."

The warrior glanced at the door to make certain that Christopher was still sleeping before continuing. "Also, I was told to inform you that we will be leaving soon. We will not be gone long; there are negotiations and retributions to be made on this planet." A dark glint lit his red eyes.

"Okay. Right. Good," Wikus responded, thinking of those scientists at the word 'retributions'. There would definitely be retributions.

Brick-a-brack held the door open and gave Wikus a friendly pat on the shoulder as the former human went through, then departed.

The room was cheerfully designed to resemble a sort of forest scene, textured blue-and-yellow tree trunks paneling the walls and a leafy ceiling with sunlight peering through the foliage to dapple the plush reddish moss-covered floor. A knothole in one of the trunks was actually a window, revealing that it was midmorning in South Africa. A spacious, nest-like bed filled the far corner of the room.

Christopher was tucked into one side of the bed, only his shoulders and head visible beneath the woven blankets. There was a space between the edge of the nest and the resting prawn that was just big enough for _someone_ to curl up in. Wikus smiled and approached a little nervously, not entirely sure whether to just crawl in with Chris or wait for him to wake up. As he drew near, the recuperating Poleepkwa's eyes opened and he gazed up at Wikus.

"Hi," Wikus managed, nearly overcome with relief and a flood of other emotions, one of the foremost of which was the urge to leap into the nest and ravish the injured prawn. "Um," he said, fidgeting and staring at Christopher, who blinked bemusedly.

"Hello. Are you… looking for someone?"

_Right. He doesn't recognize my prawn-face_. "Chris… it's me. Wikus." He took a step forward.

Christopher's eyes widened in shock.

"W-Wikus," he croaked, struggling to sit up.

"Don't move around," Wikus warned, placing a hand to the other Poleepkwa's scarred chest.

Christopher froze the instant Wikus' hand touched him, averting his gaze and ducking his head abashedly. Wikus almost chuckled at the reaction, knowing that had Christopher been human his face would have been bight red. The transformed human removed his hand and asked, "How do you feel?"

"Alive," Chris responded wryly. His expression shifted to one of concern as his gaze traveled his friend's new form. His hands plucked the edge of his blankets as if he were actively restraining himself from reaching out to inspect Wikus' body (which would have pleased Wikus to no end). Instead he queried, "And you? How… how are you? I know the past few years cannot have been easy on you." He looked up with tormented eyes. "And on top of that, I was late in delivering your cure… I'm so sorry, Wikus. You… you must have thought the worst of me."

"Don't be stupid," Wikus responded a little too quickly to mask his own guilt. He drew a breath and said with more conviction and honesty, "I knew you wouldn't just abandon me for no reason or anything like that. You're the most decent person I know." That earned him another shy head-dip from the reclining Poleepkwa.

Chris' antennae twitched as he continued. "I-I am relieved to see that your physical development went… rather spectacularly, but how are you faring emotionally?"

"I'm a right side better now that I know you're not dead in some lab or stuck in a fucking coma," Wikus quipped, grinning inwardly at the words "rather spectacularly". He sidled closer to the nest, antennae bobbing forward as he tasted the other prawn's scent. Christopher's smell was unique, subtle but somehow powerful and intoxicating. Wikus wanted to curl up and bury himself in that smell. He started to lean in, making Christopher shrink back a little, then abruptly stopped and tilted his head in surprise. Prawn senses, as he'd come to find, were heightened in ways that humans couldn't understand. If to Poleepkwa were in close proximity, it was often possible for them to "smell" each other's emotions, especially strong ones. Chris' scent was tinged with residual exhaustion and terror from the torture he'd endured; he was tense but excited to see Wikus. Most of all, though, he felt an overwhelming sorrow, a wrenching sadness that filled Wikus' senses with sympathetic pain.

"Chris… what's wrong?" The concerned hybrid crouched down in front of his friend, who didn't meet his eyes.

"What? I don't know what you mean. Nothing's wrong." Christopher's shoulders sagged despite his words.

"You're a terrible liar, Chris. Really, I mean it. You are utter crap at lying," Wikus said flatly. "Now, seriously. Talk."

Christopher glanced up, then winced from some hidden twinge and dropped his gaze again. "I…" he clicked softly, "I was… supposed to- I was going to-to ask you something…" As he was looking down, the bedridden prawn didn't notice how the Poleepkwa kneeling beside him leaned forward with barely-contained anticipation. Christopher continued, oblivious. "…But I-I got my answer from one of the doctors. So-so there's no need now."

"What?" Wikus blinked, unsure of what Chris meant. "Which doctor? Gregory?"

"No, one of the others. I don't remember his name…"

"What did he tell you?" Wikus pressed, hating the note of despair that had crept into the beaten prawn's voice and scent. "What did he say?"

/*/*/*/*/

Sorry for the chapter ending failure, guys! I just couldn't figure out where to cut it off, and I wanted to post as soon as possible, cause you guys have been so patient and understanding. Thanks for that and sorry again, but don't worry; the pronz are imminent! Reviewing makes them even MORE imminent!


	9. Coming Unprawn

HAABAWABBA DING DONG! *brain explodes in the vacuum of my head* Hullo, ladies and gents! Here, as promised, is your delicious chapter of smut and gooey sappiness! But first, some more angst. Cause, clearly, that is what this fic needs. More angst. Sadly, this will also probably be the final chapter of this particular fic. BUT! Before you kill me- *dodges flames and knives* -please note that I am already bumbling YET ANOTHER idea for YET ANOTHER fic in the terrifying cavern that is my mind. Also, I'm probably gonna start "expanding my horizons" or whatever it's called. Yeah, I'm gonna write a 5/6 fic from the movie 9. It would appear that films with the number 9 in their titles are one of my weak spots, along with kittens, short, sociopathic redheads, and chocolate. BUT I'VE SAID TOO MUCH ALREADY. Wa-heigh!

PS: ZombieSmasher: DAMN RIGHT, I WANNA TRADE CARDS!

"What did he tell you?" Wikus leaned in urgently. "Chris, what did he tell you?"

Christopher blinked and looked slightly confused by his friend's reaction. "Uh- he just… told me your good news," he said with sad, false enthusiasm. "He… he said that you'd chosen a mate. He didn't know who, but he and the others seemed fairly confident that it was Burreekibakk." He finally raised his head and looked Wikus in the eye, doing his best to hide his misery and burning jealousy. _If Wikus is happy, then… I will be happy for him._ "He is a very decent person. Very… very handsome. He's extremely lucky."

Wikus shook his head in disbelief. "Chris," he said as he tilted even closer, "You are an idiot."

And with that, he pinned Christopher to the bed and kissed him.

Christopher went rigid with shock as they're mouths met for the second time (the first time for him; he didn't remember their first kiss). Wikus let his soft labrum slide and twine with his mate's briefly before pulling back.

The stunned prawn gaped up at the transformed human, stuttering, "Y-you… uh. I mean… this… that is, uh…" He blinked and coughed nervously. "D-does this mean you do not, in fact, have intentions of being mated to Burreekibakk?"

"You're damn fucking right it does," Wikus replied easily, slipping into the bed and laying his chin on Christopher's chest to peer into his eyes. The abused Poleepkwa reached out a hand to timidly stroke Wikus' cheek, as if afraid he would disappear. Noting the slight tremor in Chris' touch, the hybrid lifted his own arm, taking Christopher's hand in his own and pressing it firmly to his face.

"It's okay," he clicked softly. "I'm here; I'm not going anywhere."

Christopher nodded, reassured, but didn't try to take his hand away. The two lay in silence for a long moment, looking into one another's eyes. Wikus leaned forward and kissed his friend again, letting his hands slide down and explore the body beneath him. Christopher's arms hung loosely around Wikus' shoulders. His eyes closed and he moaned softly as the other Poleepkwa's mouth moved against his own and two pairs of hands gently mapped his form. Wikus was only mildly struck by the thought that all those lessons in prawn anatomy that MNU had been so careful to instruct everyone on were _finally_ coming in handy. One of his binary limbs brushed along Chris' concave stomach, slipping down and down…

"Oh!" A surprised gasp slipped past Christopher's maxillae and he squirmed with pleasure as the small deft fingers dipped into the grooved cleft that hid his male reproductive organ. "W-Wikus- _oohh_…" His tiger-colored eyes fluttered and he arched up, his own secondary arms reaching out to stroke Wikus' hip.

Smirking as an idea struck him, Wikus knelt between Chris' spread legs and lowered his head.

Christopher's entire body jerked off the nest, his limbs trembling uncontrollably, moaning and whimpering as his mate's mouthparts trailed across his sensitive opening. Wikus chuckled darkly and slid one tentacle inside the tight cloaca, penetrating and lapping gently at the sides while Chris panted and begged with wordless clicks and vocalizations. When he inserted a second, Christopher screamed and sat up, clutching and stroking Wikus' antennae with desperate, beseeching movements. Wikus thrummed and the vibrations made the tormented Poleepkwa howl with bliss.

Wikus shifted a leg so that he was straddling Chris and moved his head back up, sucking at the other prawn's throat. Christopher's breathing had become heavy, his neck moving up and down rapidly as he panted. He pushed his upper body up off the bed, clinging to the Poleepkwa above him like a life preserver. Wikus chuckled deep in his throat and ran a teasing fingertip down one of his mate's antennae, making him writhe and whimper. Enjoying this reaction, Wikus used his smaller hands to coax Chris' arousal from its hiding place and pump it swiftly. He let his labrum and maxillae play along the roughened surface of the other male's feelers. Christopher groaned, his senses overwhelmed.

"Wikus," he whispered desperately, mouthing the ex-human's shoulder and chest. "_Mmmore_, don't stop, please-" His hips jumped involuntarily, grinding them together. Wikus groaned with pleasure and felt his erection slide out of its armored sheath. He gasped and gripped the blankets when a tentative hand grasped him and gave a long, agonizing stroke.

"Uhhn, fuck, Chris, that feels-_oh_!"

Christopher slung his legs around Wikus' pelvis. Guiding the member in his hand down and under until it pressed against his hidden entrance. He tightened his legs' grip, pulling his mate closer and letting out a raw, needy vocalization as the head of the other male's arousal began to impale him.

"Wikus, please, now, do it now, please, I need-AAH!"

Wikus thrust forward in one perfect, fluid motion, fully embedding himself within the begging prawn before drawing almost all the way out and plunging back in. Christopher keened wordlessly, lost in exquisitely rapturous sensation. He could feel Wikus deep inside him, the stiff organ stretching and filling and puncturing and making him _hurt so good_.

Wikus began to move, and Christopher fell apart.

His arms gave out and he fell back onto the nest as Wikus pounded into him in a perfect, powerful rhythm. The former human leaned down, still pumping his hips against Christopher's, and twined their mouth tentacles together again. The recovered prawn moaned once more and lifted a shaking hand to rub the smaller set of antennae atop his mates head, making Wikus cry out as well. Their mouths separated but their faces remained almost touching as Wikus ground against Christopher and let his binary hands take hold of the other prawn's aching arousal, sliding up and down its length. Chris choked, biting back a scream, and dragged his fingers down Wikus' spinal plates, finding a grip and pulling him deeper. The hybrid growled in approval, quickening his pace and making Chris wail in helpless ecstasy.

"_Ahh_! _Ahh_-Wikus- fuck, _ohh_, _fuck_ _harder_ _OH_ oh please don't stop, please, Wikus, I-I love you-!"

Hearing those words, Wikus felt as though a miniature explosion had occurred inside him, filling every nerve and vein with liquid sunlight. Chris' insides constricted hot and tight around him as the prawn came, and less than a second later Wikus followed, shouting Christopher's name in his chainsaw voice.

The two collapsed, Wikus' arms finally giving out as he melted into a heap on top of his mate. The moment he could breathe again, he hauled himself up and kissed Christopher again, long and slow, before murmuring, "I love you too, Chris."

There was a deep, resonant, planet-shaking rumble.

"Um… Chris? Was- was it just me, or did the Earth move for you too?"

"Ship's taking off," Christopher replied muzzily, his eyelids already drooping in contented post-coital drowsiness. "We're going home."

"Home…" Wikus' subconscious told him he should probably go look out the window, watch his planet disappear, but some deeper part of him was content to simply lie on the bed next to the being he loved. _Besides, it's not like I can never come back for a visit. And it's not really my planet._ He looked over at Chris, who was curled at his side, and smiled. _Not any more. _


End file.
